Zombies and potions

Dad has finally taken Mom to the ER this afternoon after a phone call with her doctor. She is now admitted at least for tonight, and on an IV to get her rehydrated and get her potassium level corrected. She has had a very thorough interview and exam by one of the doctors from the practice of their long-time doctors. The lab tests so far have not shown any bacterial infection, and this situation is no longer thought by anybody to be connected to the dental root canal problem. It is hoped that by feeding and rehydrating her with the IV, she can disconnect from her prolonged nausea syndrome*.

I also hope that Dad can get some sleep, as he has been "on duty" way too long and is a walking zombie. I wish I could have convinced him to do this Thursday when I first got an indication of how severe the situation was**. We had another long phone call last night, as Dad was really needing support and a sounding board.

*I'm not sure of the exact term. Basically, Mom had gotten into an automatic reflex of coughing and gagging whenever she ate or drank anything. This reflex fed and then was fed by her anxiety in an ugly spiral. Dad and I are both hopeful that if the doctor can get her to relax and rest her innards enough to stop the nausea pattern she will be okay.

**My dad tends to minimize problems. I'll never forget all of us gathered around five-year-old Steven who was hurt rolling down the hill in the backyard. Steven was lying there with his arm bent at an impossible angle, and Dad was telling me that it definitely was not broken. Dang. I'd seen a lot of broken arms by then, and it was mighty broken!